Family Ties
by breathingcondradiction
Summary: A Free-lance wolf whose past is tied to Derek's finds herself in need of his help. What he doesn't realise is he might need her more than she needs him... Not sure where and with who I'm going to take this so the twists might be as much as surprise for me as the reader. Rated M for future chapters.
1. Chapter 1

I slipped silently into the run-down warehouse. As hide-outs for wanted fugitives go it was ideal. Quiet part of town, deserted lot. Huge amount of scrap metal lying about, easy to bump into or unsettle which would create enough noise to alert the inhabitants.

Too bad all of these features are rendered useless against their own kind.

Making my footsteps inaudible I glided in between the obstacles I made my way silent as a ghost into the new alpha's new home. I was really taking into the lion's den or heart of the beast to a whole new level. I wish I could say that discouraged me though. Adrenaline sang through my veins as I drew closer to danger. My heart beat sped up enough that I had to begin taking some deep breaths to calm it. I didn't want any acute ears to hear it beating out the racing rhythm.

Finally, I reached a sort of back door if you will in the warehouse. A slim gap between two sheets of the wall's metal. Narrow enough for a body to slip through.

Sadly, that body had my boobs so I had to shimmy a little.

Once I was inside the building my ears could easily pick up the grunts and shouts of my kind inside. Ah, they were training. A perfect situation to sneak closer. They would be too focused on their tasks being taught to them by their alpha to be listening for another heart beat in the facility. The feeling of hairs standing up on the back of their necks would be pushed aside as adrenaline symptoms instead of a warning that another of their kind was approaching.

Remaining behind as many large objects as possible to prevent from being seen, they finally came into view. Four of them. I took a tentative breath through my nose. Three pups, oldest not even a year old, the others mere months. Glancing at each of their faces they were no more than seventeen. Not uncommon, younger humans take to the change far better. They'd be easy to fend off; it was their master that would be a problem.

He stood with every muscle in his body tense. A vein pushed out from his neck. His eyes were a bright, sparkling green. His hair short and messy – as if he'd run his hand through it several times in frustration. The common huge and tightly muscled body of our kind was covered in loose grey jeans and tighter black t-shirt. I was surprised more by his youth than the others. The new alpha of this area could be no older than twenty-five.

He wouldn't last. At least, not without my help.

It appeared that he was trying to teach the oldest pup a combination attack. Flips, vaults and push-offs leading into a strike, using the force built up by the chain of moves to create a huge attack to devastate his victim.

Except, the poor thing was doing it all wrong and every time he reached the end of his sequence the alpha pummelled him into the floor. The process would be repeated again and again while the other two watched in disdain, knowing they'll be next.

After the eleventh failed attempt I'd finally had enough, so had the alpha it appeared as he shoved the poor pup to the ground once more.

"For God's sake!" He roared. I didn't understand how religion came into his bad teaching methods. "The hunters could arrive on our door step ready to take us out any day! And you aren't taking in _anything_ I'm teaching you! Can _someone _please do something here that's not completely and utterly predictable?"

And there was my cue. "Knock, knock."

Eight eyes spun to face me. Each pair flashed gold with the idea of a threat. The Alpha regained composure the quickest. Straightening out of his hunched stance and eyed me up and down without an expression.

When he spoke his tone was cold and calculating.

"Erika, what have I told you about not letting your mind wander while you're supposed to be on watch?"

The only other female in the room winced and glared at me. I gave her a small smile.

"I was being focused Derek!" She whined. "She didn't make a sound!"

"Don't blame her," I cut in. Though it probably wasn't appreciated, Erika's glare turned into a full on scowl. "Most of the best trackers can't hear me sneaking up on them."

"Who are you?" The Alpha, Derek barked. "And to what pack do you belong?"

"I'm free-lance at the moment. Just going wherever I feel like going." I glanced at the younger wolves. "You won't believe the freedom you gain from not being in a pack." My gaze flicked back to Derek. "Or having an alpha."

Derek smirked and shook his head. "You didn't answer the second question. Who. Are. You?"

I sighed and strolled towards them, finally allowing my heels to click loudly on the concrete floor. One of the pups flinched at the sound, too much on edge to control his heightened senses.

"I'm known as Alyssa Gray." The half-truth coming easily to my lips. "And you all are?"

Ericka opened her mouth to respond but Derek silenced her with a death stare, he then turned back to me.

"We'll introduce ourselves when we know that you're not a threat... free-lancer Gray."

I tilted my head and shrugged. May as well get this over with. They were going to find out soon enough anyway.

"Fine. What else do you want to know?"

"The obvious question: why are you here?"

We stared at each other for a long moment, I debated lying, but it was too hard to conceal a lying heart beat from an Alpha. His green eyes sparked, hinting at the beast that lay beneath, he and I both knew I wouldn't survive a four on one, not with him taking the lead. There was no running, no fighting my way out and know lying, and that only left me with one answer to give to him.

"I've come, to see you Derek. The werewolf who murdered my father."


	2. Chapter 2 - An Unusual Introduction

Six Years Previously:

They thought I couldn't hear them, as I lay on my bed. Staring at my ceiling, praying one day that the view might change. Cream, slightly peeling paint was the only thing in sight, yet I didn't want to shut my eyes. If I shut my eyes, all sensory focus would be sent into my hearing. And I was trying so hard not to hear them.

"You're being paranoid again," the female voice hissed. The higher frequency of her soprano slightly more difficult to catch.

"I know what I can sense," the deep baritone echoed up beneath the floorboards easily, sending shivers down my spine despite my best efforts. "They're coming Julia."

"Then let's run while we can," she pleaded. I knew the tone almost too well. The beg, the whine, the final attempt to get what she wanted.

"No," he snapped back making me jump. "There's no outrunning them. We know what they want, and I will give it to them, but not the way they want it."

He had taken on a menacing tone, one that shook me to my core. I knew I should have moved, every instinct in my body was screaming at me to run and hide. But I could only remain stuck to the duvet, the slight trickle of sweat trailing down my neck.

"W – What do you mean?" She stammered.

"You know my feelings on giving _them _what they want."

"But – you can't mean –"

"I'd sooner see her dead."

Warm streams of water streamed down on either side of my face, my throat closed in and I had to swallow to prevent any sound. If he knew that I could hear them, it would only make him angrier.

"No!" I was surprised to hear actual strength in my mother's voice. It cracked as she spoke, through fear or sorrow, I wasn't sure. "Frank, you don't mean that! She's your only heir; you know the power she holds –"

"The power they would use against me!" He roared. There was a moment of deafening silence, only to be filled with a distant howl. The howl was what finally got me to move. I sat bolt upright and stared out the nearest window. I crescent moon hung low in the starry sky, giving off a strange amount of life for its slight size.

Pounding footsteps snapped my attention to below me; I hugged my knees tightly to my chest, muting my whimpers against the brushed cotton pants.

"Please!" My mother screeched, from the sounds of it she had caught him off in front of the stares, I rocked back and forth a few times and tried to breathe deeply.

"Get out of my way Julia," he hissed. "There is still time to run if you desire to."

The pause she took was heart-breaking. Tears fell once more and I did nothing to stop them.

"Leave her be Frank, she has done nothing!"

"That's not the point!"

"You would let your hatred for them lead to the death of your only child?"

The question seemed to hang there for eternity; I could hear the slight pants of air leaving my mother's lungs.

"No…" My father said on an exhaled breath making me release my own. I wanted to cry out in relief. Just when I thought I was safe again that howl coursed through our surroundings, much closer this time causing my father to speak again.

"I would also let it kill my wife."

The was thumping sound, followed by a gasp and crunch before a series of thuds. My heightened senses could pick up a whimpering and gurgled breath…

And the whimpering was coming from me.

Heavy footsteps came up the stairs just as I started screaming, pulling myself out of the bed my bare feet collided with the cold floor boards, I shook slightly as a cutting breeze entered the room.

I expected him to burst in the door – hence the screaming – instead though it creaked open. Inch by inch the light crept in, revealing a large silhouette in the doorway. I squinted my eyes until they adjusted and watched my father step into my room. My scream faltered and died as I took in his form; broad shoulders, thick dark hair and brows that creased into a menacing snarl. I backed into the corner of the room trying to keep myself upright.

"Now, now, my sweet," he crooned. The nick-name he used only caused further horror. "You know what I've taught you about crying."

I barely noticed the rivets of water cascading down my face.

"You killed her," I croaked, trembling as his smile grew wide.

"She got in my way," he shrugged as if I'd just accused him of breaking the fine china. "I cannot let them have you."

"You're a psychopath," I spat, not entirely sure where the courage was coming from. All of a sudden my rage was flooding the fear. "I'm not a possession! I'm a person!"

He glared then, fury sparked in obsidian eyes. "You dare speak to your father that way?"

"You're not my father," I hissed, my voice not strong enough. "You're not even an _Alpha_!"

He roared again, a furious howl that made the hairs on the back of my neck rise. When he took a step forward my rage broke something inside me. I lurched onto my hands and knees. Pain wracked my frame, my bones felt like they were on fire. As I glanced down I watched my nails extend to claws, as flames licked up my fingers. I cried out but the sound changed in my voice box to a howl. When the pain subsided I was facing my tormentor once more, only this time I was all wolf.

The wry smile was back on his face, I growled, hackles raised which only made him chuckle.

"Completing the change at only twelve," he said with pride that really did not match the situation. "You would have been a champion."

He crouched as if to launch himself at me, but in that exact moment the entire bedroom exploded.

The door burst inwards, hitting Frank square in the back so that he fell face first into the floor. The window shattered sending broken glass falling like rain around us. Shadows flew around the room. Two of them seized my father – one at each arm – there were at least ten. Most standing against the wall as if waiting for a command. At last one approached me, I only realised then that I was huddled in a ball on the ground, shifted back into human form unable to still my shaking limbs.

"It's alright, dear," I glanced up to see a strange woman looking down at me. Her dark hair falling in waves around an olive skinned face. Her eyes were a dimmed red, _alpha._

"Everything was fine until you came," I whispered, I glanced at the growling beast held between the two other betas that had been my father. "We – He barely got mad anymore. And mother –" I stopped, my air supply choked off. "She's dead isn't she?"

The Alpha stared at me sadly, slowly she reached out her hand, curving a matted curl behind my ear in an affectionate manner I was barely used to. I cringed backwards and then covered my face with my hands as I knew I shouldn't have done it.

"Why did you come?" I whimpered. "Everything was fine!"

"It wasn't…" she murmured softly, crouching now in front of me so that we were at eye level. "You just didn't know any better."

"He killed her." I stated obviously. "He killed her because he didn't want you to have _me._"

She frowned then tilting her head slightly to the side. Just than Frank decided to try and pull free of his restraints, snarling loudly when he couldn't.

"You will pay for this whore!" He roared at the alpha.

She stood up straight then, a hand on each shoulder made me follow her. She seemed to take no notice of my father behind her. "He will pay for what he has done," she said simply and took my clammy hand in two of her own. "Derek?" Another shadow stepped forward, when the light hit him I had to stifle a gasp. He wasn't much older than me. All dangly limbs and dark hair, green eyes that glinted in the hall light, eyes that matched the alpha's exactly. "Your first kill." She turned back to me then as I watched this Derek tense as he stood before my father. A knife glinted in a clenched fist.

"You don't have to watch this," the alpha said softly. I shook my head hoping that without words I could explain that I needed to see it. See the man of my waking nightmares fall or else, how would I know I was really awake.

"Why doesn't he use his claws?" I said in a slightly detached way.

"My son is not yet fifteen," she said with a sad smile. "He hasn't completed the change yet."

This made me frown but I didn't comment. I watched my father eye the dagger, his scowl never wavering, his growl never stuttering.

"You'll pay for this," he repeated, looking straight into my eyes as Derek plunged the weapon into his chest.


	3. Chapter 3 - Think Fast

Of course, all hell breaks loose.

Derek shifted instantly, ears turned pointed, canines grew sharp and his whole face turned wolfish, hands became claws. His eyes turned smoldering gold before blood red. The dominant alpha.

Seeing their master enrage so suddenly threw the pups into the change as well. They fell on their hands and knees, the change still new to their bodies, causing them pain.

I stood there, trying to ignore the sudden danger that was screaming at my body to do the same as the other werewolves. I took a deep shuddering breath in attempt to calm myself. I was out numbered and cornered. I needed to think fast before I got my throat ripped out.

Making sure I wasn't shaking, I held out my hand towards the new Alpha. Praying that my slow movements would prevent it from being ripped off.

Derek shifted back to his human form. A frown causing a small crease between his dark eyebrows.

"I've also come, to offer my thanks."

"What are you talking about?" He snapped, causing me to take my hand back.

"What's there not to understand? I'm here to _thank you_ for killing him."

I knew I shouldn't be baiting him, but there was too much tension in my body to remain polite.

"Who are you?" He brought the term 'barked' to a whole new level. I opened my mouth to answer him (again) when he cut me off. "Your real name, I've killed no Alphas named Gray."

I studied him a moment, he was smart at least, maybe there was a chance after all. "Gray's my mother's maiden name. The wolf you killed was Merrick Hunt."

Derek's nostrils flared, memories and recognition flashed in his green eyes. His body somehow became tenser. "And why would you thank me for that?"

I gave him a wry smile. "Can't be that hard to believe, I mean, you did meet the guy."

Derek just scowled at me, not appreciating my weak attempt at humor. I sighed. "Look, I traveled a long way to get here. I sneaked in easy enough and knew I was outnumbered before making myself known. I don't have a death wish so there must be a reason why I told you this. At least hear me out, if you still don't believe me, I'll give you the full go ahead to slash my head off."

I smiled weakly, trying to show him how much I didn't want that to happen. Derek stared at me, once again showing that calculating expression. His gamma wolves panted, still unable to shift back with the adrenaline in their systems. I didn't break eye contact with him, showing my strength at this point was crucial.

Finally, he nodded. "Fine, we'll sit and hear you out." I let out the breath I'd been holding. "_Then _we'll decide what to do with you."

Upon entering the warehouse I hadn't noticed the huge, broken down tram placed along the far wall. Inside, it appeared the pack had been decorating. The tram seats were ripped off their stations and placed slightly facing each other to create a sort of common room.

It was actually quite cool.

We sat there in silence, as I tried to choose my words carefully. Choose the best phrases to keep me alive. I soon struck on perfection.

"On my birthday, eleven years ago, my father handed me a small box at the kitchen table. The box was wrapped in silver wrapping paper, tied with a purple ribbon. When I opened it, I found a velvet blue box."

I felt every eye in the tram watching me closely. Each gaze a weight on my face as I stared at the ground trying to fight the visual memories back. I smiled sarcastically.

"I was so excited, father had never given me a gift before, it was always my mother who would buy me my birthday presents. My young mind thought that these boxes could only contain expensive and beautiful things. I was so deleriously happy that I didn't notice my mother had grown still, her face as pale as milk and her hands shaking as she cleaned the rest of the dishes. I opened it without caution.

"There were no diamond earrings in that box, know ruby ring or sapphire pendant that my imagination had created seconds before. No, what was inside was a tiny vile.

"I picked it up, the glass was cool and smooth in my fingers, yet the clear liquid inside made my stomach churn.

"'What is it?' I asked uncertainly. Father gazed at me, his gray eyes were cold, menacing. 'Something that will make you stronger my sweet.' I frowned, not understanding his words. That's when mother spoke. Her voice was so frail, it made me break out of whatever happy dream I'd been in that morning. 'Frank...' she whispered. 'Please don't do this...' He ignored her, and focused back on me. 'It will make you stronger my sweet, I promise you. You'll be a better wolf, all you have to do is drink it.'

"The dread was really beginning to settle in. So much so that I nearly dropped the vile. I wish I did. Still not quite understanding what was going on I tried to protest. 'What? I – But - ' '_Drink it!_' He roared in my face and I flinched backwards. The fear of him losing his temper was worse than the dread etched deep in the pit of my stomach so... I drank it."

I glanced up. Meeting the eyes of Derek and his pack. Two of the pups were horrified, the other was worse, almost as if my words were breathing life into a nightmare. Derek simply looked troubled.

"It was wolfs bane in the vile," I croaked still tasting the liquid on my tongue, they all flinched. "Not enough to kill me instantly, but enough to poison every organ in my body."

"So he gave you his blood then," Derek spoke for the first time in a good hour. "The bane would have killed you eventually otherwise.

I nodded tightly. "Of course he did, he just waited four hours." I rolled my shoulders trying to release the tension in them. "Four hours of vomiting bile, choking and shaking and muscle spasms as my body attempted to get rid of the poison. Four hours until I finally passed out in my mother's arms. I woke up in my bed two weeks later, barely able to move or speak. My father was standing over me, 'you could have done better sweet heart,' he said and then walked away. And that... was what I remember from my tenth birthday."

I swallowed, trying to fend off the memories of that story. Standing up slowly, I shrugged out of my warn leather jacket and began picking up my hair from my right shoulder before throwing it over my left. I turned my back to them then, and heard with satisfaction their hisses and gasps. With my left hand I reached up and trailed my finger tips along the ugly, raised, scarlet trenches buried in my skin there. Five of them, one for each claw.

"I won't bore you with the details of what he gave me for my eleventh."

Next thing I knew I was being thrown a worn down sleeping bag and led into another one of the trams carriages. This one had mattresses pushed against the walls of it. Three of them.

"You all sleep here?" I asked dubiously. Didn't they have families? Or lives outside the change?

"Not usually," Isaac answered. He seemed to do most of the answering as well as hanging back to walk beside me. "I stay here. Ericka and Dom go home most evenings unless we're training too late, then we just crash here." I wondered where Isaac's 'home' was, why he was the only gamma wolf living here. Instead of prying into the boy's personal life, I changed direction of the question I was about to ask.

"Where does Derek sleep?"

"Next tram up. His room is full of wolf junk – I mean, artifacts from his family." I nodded, telling him I understood. Derek was born a were like me, not bitten and changed chemically. That meant that he's a descendant of the old bloodlines, there are only a few left in the world now. Not that I'll bore you with the history.

Speaking of the devil he marched into the small carriage, flanked be Erika and Dom. He glanced at me and the sleeping bag held in my arms.

"You'll sleep on Ericka's mattress." Boy, did that sentence get me a look of hatred from the only other female in the room. "It's not too late so they're going home."

"Cool, thanks," I inclined my head towards the departing wolves but they ignored me. It's going to take a few days to earn their respect I realised. "What time does training start in the morning?"

Derek arched an eyebrow, damn... I wished I could do that. "You need training?"

I snorted. "I'd like the chance to make myself useful. It'll be quicker training them with two teachers instead of one."

Derek stared at me, as if sizing me up to whether or not I'd be good at training pups. _Better than you _I thought darkly. Derek had near to zero patience for it. Probably had a bastard of a mentor back when he was their age. _Well, not as big a bastard as mine._

"Fine. They get up at five to start warm-ups and do two hours before going to school."

"Great," I tried injecting enthusiasm into my voice but it rang out false. I _so _wasn't a morning person. "I'll see you all in the morning then."

Dom and Ericka ignored me once again, Isaac gave me a small smile which I returned. I needed at least one ally here in Helltown. Derek did that staring thing again and just when I thought he was going to say something to me he marched through the living space before sliding open and firmly closed the door into his room. I sighed. This was going to be a long few weeks.

As I made my bed – i.e. placing the sleeping bag on top of the mattress, I could feel Isaac watching me from the other side of the room. After attempting to ignore the stare for a good ten minutes I finally gave in and glanced up frowning.

"Do you need something?" I asked a little bluntly. Jesus, I really had to be careful. I did want to keep my only fan in my current predicament.

Isaac swallowed. "Um... well... I was just wondering. And I know this is a bit personal but… did your Dad get a funeral."

I stared blankly at the boy for a few moments. "He was… cut in half and buried, does that count?"

He shrugged, telling me it did. "Were you upset?"

"Upset?"

"That he had died?"

"Did you hear anything that I'd told you before?"

"Yes!" He sighed, and scratched the back of his neck. These questions may not have made sense to me but they were somehow important to him. I sighed.

"Isaac I was glad he was dead, he did nothing to deserve anything from his daughter except perhaps me spitting on his corpse." I bit my lip. Maybe I was being too vulgar.

Strangely, these words brought out a small smile. Slowly though it vanished. When he spoke again he was whispering.

"Do – Do you think that that makes you a horrible person. That you're glad your own father died?"

I paused, trying to figure out where all these questions are coming from. If this boy had been any older, or any less sincere I would have punched him in the balls a long time ago. Somehow, I just knew he wasn't asking me these questions to judge me. My answers were for his own piece of mind.

So I answered him as honestly as I could manage.

"No, I don't think I'm… horrible. Just... smart."


End file.
